It was a good thing Miriam’s voice was not even slightly more skilled or all of Copper Citadel would’ve been destroyed, blasted to a barren field without even a piece of rubber or single male corpse to remember her by. As it was, every male within the sound of her voice (which couldn’t be heard in the first place) was stricken with headache, nausea, and bleeding ears.
Miriam collapsed as Regina rose. The Amazon’s gender spared her from the onslaught.
The roc twisted his head to one side. Kevin appeared unharmed despite the awesome power directed against him.
He’d lost a few feathers from the trembling air and had been unsettled by the quaking earth.
“It should’ve destroyed him,” Miriam croaked incredulously, barely audible. “Nothing can withstand the final note.”
And it was hard to imagine anything short of a god not being obliterated by the siren’s song. But the roc rose to steady feet and cackled.
“Kevin’s a girl,” realized Regina. “Those damn goblins misnamed her.”
Regina considered running for it, but Miriam wasn’t even able to stand. She should’ve left the siren to die, but it wasn’t her way to abandon a sister-in-arms. They hadn’t gotten the chance to finish their fight, and she would be damned if some rampaging beast would deprive her of her rightful victory. She’d rather die first.
She tightened her grip on her javelin, but Kevin thundered past. The roc had no interest in such distractions as those two nongoblin morsels below her. She’d found her focus again.
“Neeeeeeeeed!” she shrieked.
Paperwork occupied most of Gabel’s day, so it wasn’t unexpected to find him in his office when Kevin started her rampage. A glance at the pandemonium outside his window encouraged him to remain indoors. It wasn’t uncommon for a roc or two to get loose. The handlers of the program usually got everything back in order without too much difficulty. One of the smaller buildings might get crushed, and it was expected that some personnel would get eaten or flattened. Since he had no desire to be either, he wisely tucked himself under his desk and waited for the noise to die down. He dared crawl over to his filing cabinet just long enough to pluck out a standard Petty Chaos and/or Minor Tumultuous Calamity report, which he filled out. No reason to wait until the last minute.
The sounds of disorder continued much longer than Gabel expected. Usually the escaped roc slurped down its fill, mostly goblins, for which Gabel was immensely grateful as the Legion didn’t bother with death notices for the species. The sated bird could then be led in lethargic agreeableness back to the pens. Several times he heard someone shout Ned’s name, and with a bit of luck the commander might’ve died in the incident. Gabel craned out his arm and opened the top drawer of his desk, where he kept the Accidental Expiration Notices. He had one all ready for Ned, with everything but date, time, and manner of death filled out. Gabel had another form recommending himself for promotion under that. The recommendation was worthless as no one of any rank had endorsed it. But he still liked to look at it.
Something green and huge lurched past Gabel’s window, rattling the entire office with her terrific, thumping footfalls. “Neeeeeeed!” screamed the unfamiliar voice. The monster stopped and lowered her head to peer through the window with one eye, but she didn’t see Gabel under his desk.
“Come out, Ned!” shrieked Kevin. “You can’t hide forever!” She stomped away with a growl.
Gabel crawled to the window and closed the curtains. He didn’t know where the roc had found her voice, but it was obvious Ned had something to do with it. Regardless of Never Dead Ned’s leadership talents, dubious at best, he was definitely a man followed by ill fortune. Demons and wizards and dragons and rampaging, talking rocs were proof of that. Gabel hadn’t liked any of the company’s previous commanders, but he hadn’t gotten rid of them for any other reason than personal advancement. When Ned was finally disposed of, regardless of whether Gabel received a promotion out of it, he would still breathe a little easier.
The office door opened before Gabel could creep back under his desk. He sprang to his feet. “Dropped my pen,” he explained before even looking up.
It was Ralph and Ned. The ogre clutched Ned by the neck. One squeeze of those fingers would crush Ned’s spine. Ned seemed to know, judging by how stiffly he squirmed in Ralph’s grasp.
“What are you doing?” asked Gabel.
“We gotta talk,” said Ralph. “About him.” He lifted Ned like a kitten and shook the human’s fragile form. Ned sputtered.
Gabel leaned on his desk. “You idiot. You were supposed to leave me out of this.”
“That’s what we gotta talk about.”
Ned was turning blue. Ralph casually tossed Ned, gasping and choking, into a chair in the corner. “Stay put, sir.”
“What’s going on?” asked Ned breathlessly.
“Quiet, sir,” said Gabel, “this doesn’t concern you.”
Ralph imitated the small ore’s leaning posture. The ogre’s weight threatened to mash the desk. “I’ve been thinking ...”
Gabel groaned. He hated it when minions started thinking. When would everyone finally realize how much easier life would be if they left the thinking to him?
“What’s in this for me?” asked Ralph.
“I would think that would be obvious,” said Gabel. “You don’t like Ned.”
“Yeah, so? I don’t like lots of guys. Killing one asshole doesn’t really make my life easier.”
Ned rose from the chair as if to bolt for the door.
“Don’t make me break your legs, sir,” admonished Ralph.
Ned sat down.
“As I was saying, I’m taking all the risks here, and you’re getting all the perks. Doesn’t seem like a good deal to me. I think it’s time to renegotiate.”
Gabel chuckled. “You idiot. There’s nothing to renegotiate now. Ned knows you were planning to kill him, and now he knows I’m in on it too. If he walks out of this office, we both hang. We’re both in this together now, and you have every bit as much to lose as I do. The first rule of negotiation is you’ve got to have something of worth or at least the illusion of something of worth, and you’ve got nothing.” He grinned smugly. “Now kill him like you were supposed to so we can figure out what to do with the body.”
Ralph grinned back. “Oh, I’ve got something.”
He grabbed the desk in both hands and with one swift motion, cracked it across his knee. The splinters exploded in the room, driving a few choice wedges into the walls, toppling books, knocking down the curtains, and splitting one of Gabel’s collection of dwarf skulls. One shard nearly skewered Ned through the eye. Another came dangerously close to piercing Gabel’s foot. Several shards drove themselves into Ralph’s thick skin, piercing his cheek, neck, and brow. Blood trickled, but Ralph seemed not to care.
Gabel and Ned gulped.
Ralph dropped the shattered halves of furniture. “See, the way I got it worked out, I’m not going to be in more trouble for breaking two officer necks than one. So we aren’t negotiating for Ned’s life. We’re talking about yours.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” said Gabel. “Hey, you said it yourself: I don’t like Ned. And I don’t like you either. Truthfully I suspect you’re every bit the asshole he is. Probably a little more of one.”
Gabel snarled. He bent and grabbed a Furniture Requisition from the paperwork lying all across his office floor. Bit of good luck that one happened to be on top. But Ralph’s devious nature was a bit of bad fortune. Gabel would have to be more careful when choosing his minions in the future.
“What do you want then?”
“I want to stop digging graves, but I want to keep getting paid for it,” replied Ralph. “And I want free beer. Maybe some new boots.”
“Is that it?”
Ralph realized perhaps he wasn’t the shrewd negotiator he’d first thought. He knew killing Ned for Gabel should be worth a lot, but Ralph was damned if he could put a solid value on it. And he was a very simple ogre with very simple needs. He would’ve been happy with all the previously mentioned items, but that Gabel seemed untroubled by their request told Ralph he hadn’t asked for enough. The ogre plumbed the depths of his mind, but it was a very shallow metaphoric pool, and he struck his metaphoric head on the metaphoric rocks at the bottom and was momentarily stunned.
As for Ned, he was slightly insulted by the exchange. He liked to think his life was worth more than a new pair of boots. The indignity spurred him to think of escape again. He wouldn’t let the universe die over a bottomless mug of ale. He didn’t move just yet. Ralph was poised too near the only exit. Ned hoped when an opportunity came he’d spot it in time.
“Anything else?” asked Gabel impatiently.
“No, I guess not.” Ralph snapped his fingers, though the meatiness of the digits produced more of a loud slap than a snap. “Wait. I’d like a girlfriend. Can you requisition one of those?”
“I’ll see what I can do. Are you satisfied now?”
Ralph considered asking for more things, but the only other request that came to mind was some sort of magic sword. He didn’t know if Gabel could get one of those, and Ralph didn’t feel right asking for it anyway. Killing Ned would be far too easy. He couldn’t in good conscience demand much more for the job.
Ned dashed for the door. He attempted to duck past Ralph’s iron grip, but the office was so small and the ogre so large that there wasn’t enough room. Ralph caught Ned by the arm and tossed him back in the chair.
“What if you’re wrong about this?” asked Ralph. “What if Ned comes back again?”
Gabel knew he wasn’t wrong. Ned’s fear was apparent, and an immortal had no use for fear. But Gabel had not advanced this far through sloppy assassination, and he couldn’t be absolutely sure Ned would remain dead. That was why he’d wanted Ralph to slay the commander. If Ned rose again, Gabel would have plausible deniability. Now that wasn’t an option.
“We’ll bind and gag the corpse and hide it someplace private,” said Gabel. “We’ll feed him to the rocs if we have to. Shouldn’t be anything left to rise after that.”
“Works for me,” agreed Ralph.
“Wait,” said Ned. “You can’t do this. If you kill me, I’ll destroy the universe.”
“Not that again,” sighed Ralph. “You’re going to have to come up with a more believable lie than that.”
Ned shouted for help as the shadow of the ogre fell across him. It was no use. There was far too much racket going on outside. The thudding footsteps of Kevin alone were enough to drown out most noise. Ned kicked and punched at Ralph with no effect. The ogre wrapped his thick hands around Ned’s face, muffling any screams.
“I bet if I rip off his head he’ll stay dead,” said Ralph.
“Don’t do that,” replied Gabel. “Too messy. Just break his neck and get it over with.”
“That’s not much fun.”
Ned squirmed and twisted. His hands clawed at Ralph. His legs kicked out to bounce harmlessly off the ogre’s ribs.
“You’re not doing it for fun,” said Gabel. “Just finish him off.”
Ned’s teeth found purchase in a meaty mound of flesh in Ralph’s palm, one of the few sensitive areas in his thick-skinned body. Ralph yelped and dropped Ned. He ducked between the ogre’s legs and scrambled for the door. Gabel jumped in the way and kicked Ned across the face. Ned crumpled, and Gabel drew his sword.
“For crying out loud, do I have to do everything myself?”
Ned glanced up at the sword raised to behead him. He didn’t think Miriam would be saving him this time.
“Uh, Gabel,” said Ralph.
Gabel refused to be distracted any longer. He didn’t turn around, and so he didn’t see what Ned and Ralph saw. A single roc eye glared through the window.
“Neeeeeeeeeed!” shrieked Kevin as she shoved her head through the wall. Ralph scrambled to one side of the cramped office, barely avoiding being skewered by the roc’s barbed beak. Ned curled in a ball, the most effective means of defense at his disposal.
Kevin snatched up Gabel in her toothy beak and withdrew her head to get a better look at her latest morsel in the sunlight. She discovered with some disappointment it was not Ned. But it was the largest, juiciest goblin she’d ever come across. Only after she’d slurped him down did she notice the unsatisfying orcish flavor. Her hideous face twisted into an unusually gruesome sneer, she shrieked and dragged her tongue across the cobblestones, scraping away the clingy bits of ore aftertaste.
Ned and Ralph had put aside their differences and now sought to take advantage of the distraction to escape. The roc’s body blocked the hole in the wall, and a mound of rubble blocked the door.
Kevin thrust her head back into the office.
“Get out of my way!” Ralph shoved Ned aside and prepared to break down the door with a thrust of his shoulder. Instead he got his head nipped off by Kevin’s clumsy beak. Ralph’s ogre nervous system locked his corpse into instant upright rigidity, and the exit was rendered more blocked than before.
Kevin lunged and pushed harder, and the wall buckled and bits of ceiling fell as inch by inch she moved closer to Ned frozen in the corner. If the roc were only a bit smarter, she could’ve dropped to her belly and easily angled in to snag him. But it was only a matter of moments.